Across the Pond
by captain-jaybird
Summary: Kid!Sarah's just moved to Toronto, and she's having a little trouble with the switch from British English to American English.


Sarah's first culture shock happens not long after she's moved to Canada, on the school playground. She's wearing the red trousers Mrs. S had given her as a birthday present, and she feels very smart. Little Felix had been so jealous, which only made Sarah like them more. She sees Emily playing hop-scotch, and walks over to join. Sarah thinks it's a stupid game, but she hasn't made very many friends yet and at least it's easy.

"Her, Sarah!" Emily calls out as Sarah walks over. "I like your new pants!"

Mortified, Sarah spins around and looks down to make sure her underclothes aren't showing. There's nothing there!

"You can't see my pants!" she says back to Emily, annoyed. "They're not showing at all."

The other girl looks at her strangely. "Uh, of course I can. They're those things, you know on your legs? Don't you know what pants are?"

Sarah feels embarrassed, and covers it with bravado. "These are _trousers._ Pants are for _under_ your trousers."

"That's underwear here," Emily giggles. "You're so weird, Sarah."

"Canadians are stupid," Sarah grumbles under her breath. "I thought they were supposed to speak _English._"

…

A few weeks later a boy transfers into her class, and Sarah is relieved not to be the new kid anymore. She had been sick (or, more accurately, faking sick to avoid the math test) the day he had arrived, and their teacher, Mrs. Johnson, had told her to go introduce herself. Sarah scuffs her feet as she heads over. It's part of practicing being polite, which her school report said she had a problem with. Sarah thinks politeness is just lying to make people feel better.

"Hey," she grouses. "I'm Sarah."

"I'm Randy," the red-headed boy says, and Sarah looks at him in horror. A ginger, and with _that_ for a name?

"Your parents named you _Randy?_" she gasps. "Are you joking?"

"No…" Randy says, unsure. "It's just my name."

"Don't you know what that means?" Sarah asks. Randy doesn't, and Sarah whispers it in his ear. After that, she gets sent to the principal's office. Apparently Randy doesn't mean horny in America.

…

Sarah's out with Mrs. S and her friend Kate when a woman runs into her. "Shi—" Sarah starts, but shuts her mouth after a very stern look from her caretaker. For some reason, Kate is giggling.

"What're you on about?" Sarah asks her.

"That lady was wearing a fanny pack," Kate explains. "Those things are so uncool."

"A fanny pack?" Sarah whispers, glancing at Mrs. S. "She wears something on her fanny? _How?_"

The British girl is getting really tired of the odd looks people are giving her, but Kate answers her anyway.  
"I mean, there's just a strap that goes around your waist."

Sarah has no idea how something tied to someone's waist could end up down _there,_ and she must look lost because Kate continues "The strap makes the pack sit on your butt. Haven't you seen one before?"

"You mean a bumbag!" Sarah finally gets it. Now Kate is the one looking confused.

"No, I mean a fanny pack. Bumbag sounds stupid. What do you think a fanny is, anyway? You're being really strange."

"Um…" Sarah blushes a deep red. She does _not _want to explain this to Kate. Fortunately, Mrs. S comes in and saves her.

"Fanny is just a rude word in England, dear," the older woman says. "Although Sarah here doesn't usually have a problem with rude words." She gives her a pointed look.

"That one's different," Sarah mutters, and turns away to find something else to look at. She hates Canada.

…

Sarah is in the middle of writing a stupid creative writing paper when she realizes her pencil had broken in half and she can't erase anything. She doesn't know why it matters, writing about what you would do if you were your favorite animal is dumb. Still, Mrs. S said she would take away her allowance if Sarah's grades don't improve, so she has to actually try to do this essay right. Rolling her eyes, she raises her hand.

"Yes, Sarah?" Mrs. Johnson asks.

"Can I have a rubber?" Sarah replies.

"Sarah Manning!" her teacher sternly exclaims. "That is inappropriate. You are getting a pink slip again—"

"Oi!" Sarah says, angrily. "I just wanted to erase these marks off my stupid paper. I didn't do _anything_ this time." She's pretty Mrs. Johnson is out to get her.

"An eraser," the woman says. "You want an eraser, Sarah."

"Yeah, okay, can I have an eraser, _please?_" Sarah asks. She doesn't know why this eraser/rubber thing matters at all. It's several years later when she puts it together, and then laughs at what poor Mrs. Johnson must have thought.

…

Sarah's last big mix-up happens in fifth grade. It's been three years since she left England, and she's got the weirdo Canadian things down now. She still stubbornly uses English words, but at least now she knows how not to make a fool of herself. Eric is storming down the hallway, and he looks mad.

"Out of my way, Manning," he says, hitting her with his shoulder.

"What's your problem, mate?" Sarah doesn't care how angry he is, no one gets away with pushing her (or her foster brother) around. The last kid who tried got a black eye, and Sarah got detention. She thinks it was worth it completely.

"I'm _pissed,_ that's my problem," Eric shoots back. "Shove off." Sarah looks at him with all new respect. She can't believe little, glasses-wearing Eric pulled it off.

"Woah," she breathes. "You're a badass."

"What?" Eric actually stops and turns around.

"You got _pissed,_" Sarah says, awe in her voice. "I never knew a kid who could do that before."

The boy snorts. "Anyone can get angry."

Sarah realizes she's made another mistake, and stalks off. She even forgets to retaliate against Eric for the shoulder bump. Sarah hates school for never teaching her the important things, and the bloody English language for being so stupid. As far as she's concerned, it can bugger right off from now on.

…

A/N: Pants = underwear, randy = horny, fanny = slang for vagina, rubber = eraser, and pissed = drunk, if any of those were unclear. And the Brits really do say bumbag! I remember making a few mistakes of my own when I lived in England as a kid, and figured poor Sarah would too.


End file.
